A/N: New Story! All Grissom and Sara! Working on a family mystery from long ago! Enjoy!
From Where We Came
Chapter 1
Sliced tomatoes, chickpea salad, chopped sweet onions, and butter crunch lettuce carefully layered on toasted bread; Gil Grissom paused to admire his work before adding a scoop of cut up fruit to their lunch plates. Hearing the door click shut, he looked up from his sandwich making to see his wife waving a brown envelope in his direction.
"Something from Max," she said as she placed the envelope on the counter, keeping her hand on it for a moment pointing to the Las Vegas return address.
Wiping his fingers on a towel, Grissom picked it up and slowly turned it over before saying, "What would she send me?"
"Find out," Sara said with a laugh, handing him a knife.
Slowly, he slipped the knife under the flap and cut it open, peered inside, and shook another white envelope out—a heavy formal one. A yellow note was stuck on the envelope.
He said, "Maxine writes this came to the lab and looks personal." He reached for the knife again as he turned the sealed envelope over. "Mmmm—do we know anyone in Delano?" His finger ran over an embossed address. "Expensive envelope," he said as he placed the knife under the pointed flap.
A moment later, Sara was reading over his shoulder as Grissom hesitated a second before glancing at her; both were quick readers and she gave a slight nod for him to turn the page.
Each of the four pages was filled with old-fashioned cursive writing and when they had both finished, Grissom turned to the first page. "I don't remember any cousins…"
"She'd be thirty years older than you and," Sara flipped to the second page, " She says you would be her second cousin once removed—I don't even know what that means." Her finger traced a line. "Her great grandparents are your two-great grandparents." Laughing, she held the pages up, asking, "How many relatives do you have that you know nothing about?"
A deep groan came from her husband. "You know all I know—I have none—until—until Doris Blakeney found me."
As Sara finished preparing plates for their lunch, Grissom read parts of the letter out loud:
"Dear Gilbert,
I am your distant cousin—your mother and I had the same great grandparents which made us second cousins which would make you my second cousin once removed. As long as your mother lived, she and I kept in touch once or twice a year and I learned about your career. She was so proud of you.
At one time, we were a large family with aunts and uncles who lived all over California but all of us are gone except you and me. At age 96, I don't have many months or years left—to be as old as I am, I'm in good shape, I think."
Skipping over several long paragraphs of remembrances and family connections, he continued reading the last page:
"I live alone in the home of my parents and grandparents surrounded by land that has been placed in trust for the state upon my death. The house will also go to the state and this is why I am writing to you now.
I would like to invite you to visit me to hear of a puzzle—a family mystery—and in your line of work, you might be able to solve it.
I look forward to hearing from you to welcome you and your wife to my home."
"A family mystery—what could she mean?" asked Sara.
Grissom turned the white stationary over several times as if he were expecting a hidden message to appear. Finally, he said, "I don't know where Delano is located—do you?"
Immediately, Sara pressed her phone and a few seconds later, turned it to him. "North of Bakersfield—farming part of the state." Her eyebrows shot upward with a smile as she said, "We could be there in less than three hours—call her. I'm curious."
"A distant cousin I never knew," Grissom said, smiling as he turned the pages again. "We have two weeks until heading out again."
Sara put their plates on the table, filled water glasses, and sat down before her husband joined her; the letter in his hand.
He said, "Do you remember where we stored my mother's papers?"
Caught with her mouth filled with a bite of sandwich, Sara waved her hand while she chewed and swallowed. "Garage, left side—four blue boxes."
Thinking for a minute, Grissom said, "What's in those boxes?"
Sara held up her fingers one at a time as she said, "High school and college in one, things she saved from your childhood, taxes, real estate and other legal papers, and some of her travel mementoes." After she counted, she pointed upstairs and added, "Upstairs in the chest are a few other papers—her will and birth certificate, a Bible—a few letters—all were in her bedroom."
"I'm going to look at the Bible—maybe find something about family," said Grissom.
Sara shook her head, saying, "The Bible is your father's family." She tapped the letter, "Doris is your mother's family." She reached for her phone, adding, "Let's do a search—maybe there are not many Doris Blakeney's on Google."
A quick search found three—two were obituary notices—and none were in California. Sara erased 'Doris' and searched for 'Blakeney' in California. She smiled, saying, "Found the name." A few seconds later, she said, "A brief mention in the history of farming around Delano." She kept scrolling while eating.
At one point, Grissom passed her his reading glasses.
"Another mention—this is from a newspaper—and maybe this is her family mystery?" Sara passed her phone to Grissom and then handed his glasses back. "Looks like a scan of a local paper."
Enlarging the print and squinting did not help much but he said, "1931—deaths of two Blakeney children—says they died in a farm accident."
"Maybe her siblings? Maybe she doesn't remember what happened?"
With a grumpy sounding groan, Grissom said, "If this is her mystery, she could find the answer as easy as we did." He took a bite of food and chewed slowly before saying, "I'll call her—you up for a road trip? Plan an overnight stay—not with her—we'll find a hotel or—or one of those bed and breakfast places."
Sara smiled, ready for this. With a lighthearted tease, she said, "I'll find us a place—it will be like 'Finding Your Roots' with Dr. Gilbert Grissom."
Grissom smirked, saying, "I'll tell you when to turn the pages."
A/N: Short first chapter-now do what you do best-leave a comment and another chapter appears!
There will be a bit of sweet smut along the way (rating may change). Thank you!